


Learning to trust

by SailorStarDust1, yamaneko19xx



Category: Metal Gear
Genre: BBV Day 2018, Bisexuality, Canon Disabled Character, Friendship/Love, M/M, Past BBEva, Past BBKaz - Freeform, Past JackBoss, Past VKaz (in the BBKaz sense), Past VQuiet, Referenced OcelHira, Slow Burn, slice of life-ish
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-11
Updated: 2018-03-11
Packaged: 2019-03-21 10:28:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,087
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13738929
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SailorStarDust1/pseuds/SailorStarDust1, https://archiveofourown.org/users/yamaneko19xx/pseuds/yamaneko19xx
Summary: While meeting off-base to discuss plans for the future, Venom learns to have a little faith towards his old friend.Written together with Yamaneko19xx for our first annual #BBVDay2018 event on Twitter (March 11th to 12th), this year’s theme is “Trust and Distrust”.





	Learning to trust

**Author's Note:**

> So uhh...I thought I was completely done writing MGS, but this “soft BBV” collaboration by myself and @Yamaneko19XX was a long time coming :D
> 
> This piece was partially inspired by an old excellent article that explains what might’ve gone through BB’s head before TPP events: http://beloveddisciple.tumblr.com/post/140346163155/thoughts-on-naked-snakebig-boss-in-a-coma

Blowing cigar smoke as he sat, khaki-covered legs were propped up against his humble desk in Outer Heaven. His lone clear blue eye glanced at the frequency dialed on his radio: 120.13.

“Ahab. Do you read me?”

A moment’s worth of static on the other end, before that familiar voice responded. “Loud and clear, Ishmael. Hm…Maybe I should say ‘Boss’?”

Some chuckling in response. “When are you free? I’d like us to meet. Victoria nearby Seychellen waters should be secure enough.”

Properly transferring Outer Heaven over to Ahab…Snake’s own plans on returning to FOXHOUND…How Ahab was doing personally all these years without Quiet…Soon nearing the end of the 1980’s with a new decade just around the corner, there was much to discuss.

Neither man ever found the time to sit face-to-face and talk about how business was proceeding; field work keeping both constantly busy. Radio discussions were simply the easiest form of accessible—and private—communication between them.

“Sounds perfect, some of our men are stationed there. I just finished looking over some papers that needed my approval. I’ll be there in an hour, Boss.”

It would take Ishmael around five to reach the appointed destination—honestly, securing a hotel room and enjoying some downtime away from their respective bases would do both good.

Venom’s Boss tended to sound so…tired, all the time. Something that went beyond his ‘simple’ work fatigue in ensuring MSF’s dream wouldn’t stay dead.

Plumes of cigar smoke exhaled on Big Boss’s end of the line. The scent was a natural comfort to him, whether during stressful moments or times of peace. Perhaps, subconsciously, due to that woman…

“See you soon.”

Straightforward as always in his own responses, John immediately disconnected. Letting out a sigh after hunching over his humble desk, Venom stretched outwards to crack his back. His eye wandered, trailing across his crumpled, uncharacteristically disheveled, bed. Spending more and more time on the field in recent years, getting a good night’s sleep in the comfort of his own quarters felt somewhat…pointless. There wasn’t a warm body he longed for at his side to make returns to Mother Base feel worth it. Although, what good was romance to a soldier—combat medic or not—through and through?

His butterfly was long gone, disappearing without a trace. It had already been 5 years now.

Pouring through Venom Snake’s small window, steady light blue waves and early afternoon sunlight mingled. Gulls cried in the distance as they circled overhead.

Bending down, he began packing necessary overnight items into a duffel bag. A t-shirt, an extra pair of socks alongside a spare weapons belt (one could never be too careful) since the Boss would certain have one on his person.

And he’d certainly be remiss to forget his toothbrush.

He had already began mentally picking apart his brain for the best excuse to give Kaz—Ocelot would be unperturbed, assuming his hypnotherapy had naturally worn down with time ( _without_ any adverse drugs to interfere).

The truth, Venom decided. _An off-base business trip._ , he mentally practiced in his head, pleased how it sounded. Certainly Kazuhira would raise an eyebrow before grumbling and adjusting his beret, but the Diamond Dogs subcommander would have to relinquish that seething anger sooner than later, lest it utterly destroy him from within.

Venom caught himself sighing again, unsure of the exact reason why.

* * *

It was approximately 5 PM as Snake carefully sipped his third cup of hot coffee, steamed with milk. Even as a doctor in his former life, he had always been a patient man. The next cup would be chamomile tea, his practical side already decided; caffeine shakes around Big Boss would be an embarrassment.

Wearing some jeans and a t-shirt—duffel bag at his feet—Venom adjusted the black baseball cap against his forehead. While he wasn’t necessarily the most fashion-conscious outside of his work, those stares and hushed whispers from other patrons of the outdoor cafe were rather obvious…

The shrapnel.

Sighing deeply, he took care in lowering his cap, covering that ugly reminder of his fractured past before sipping deeply from the remains of his beverage.

“Nice hat.”

Lifting his head, Venom’s good eye locked with the smirking—technically shorter—man, hands in his pockets. Big Boss wore khaki-colored pants alongside a hooded leather jacket—Venom couldn’t really blame his superior for protecting his identity; while most would assume they were twins, one could never be too careful with potential eyes and ears from Cipher everywhere.

Big Boss took a seat across from the good doctor, flagging down a pretty blonde waitress to take his order. Sure enough, there was the brief glimmer of a concealed M1911A1 from the holster inside Big Boss’s jacket as he sat. After all, one could never be too careful.

Was it Venom Snake’s imagination, or did those whispers grow due to the abrupt arrival of such an intimidating presence?

“Sorry, Boss, it’s been awhile since I’ve walked among civilians.” A sheepish smile was all Venom could offer before the cheerful waitress, pen in hand, took their orders: Chamomile tea for Venom and a hot coffee—black—for the Boss.

Big Boss simply waved a hand to signal it was fine, reclining back into his chair. Unperturbed, hood still covering his face, that smirking beard was occasionally visible as he spoke.

“I take it you’re ready whenever to expand? I have a business proposition, since I’ll be transferring in another month or two.”

A business proposition, hm? They would have to discuss matters in-depth, in the privacy of their shared hotel room.

Venom raised an eyebrow as their hot beverages were served with utmost care, offering quiet thanks to the waitress, who was laughing at the flirtatious French remarks from Ishmael. Forgetting Big Boss’s preferences for allegedly either gender when it came to blondes was impossible.

Maybe it was his fetish?

Venom never really felt comfortable asking, transferred memories of John’s—those handful of people, the two men he knew somewhat well and the two women that Big Boss intimately knew—vaguely present in the back of his mind.

Perhaps it wasn’t the right time or place, but better than talking ‘business’ out in the open. He cleared his throat, the warmth of his drink having calmed his sudden bout of nerves.

“Boss…What about Kaz?”

Immediately, Snake’s expression grew…fatigued. Shrugging the leather jacket across his broad, muscular, shoulders, John sniffled with gaze transfixed on the rising steam of his coffee mug.

“What about him?”

Venom’s eye narrowed. He bit his lip, at least it wasn’t hard enough to draw blood. “Why didn’t you ask Ocelot about him, once you woke up?”

A shrug. _That_ was all it took?

“Adam said everything was under control. This was _before_ Kaz's capture. What else was I supposed to ask?”

Huffing, Venom shook his head before locking eyes with Big Boss. Sentiments of his past life, an inability to let go of the ‘morally right’ thing, was at the forefront. Especially when it came to his best friend being treated with _some_ form of respect.

“Too busy visiting EVA to be concerned about your former partner’s well-being? I don’t think you understand how physically and mentally  _hurt_ he is by all this.”

An irritatingly calm sip from his coffee. “He was in good care. _Your_ care.” The slight wince as John deftly lit a cigar, before exhaling, didn’t go unnoticed. “What does it matter, anymore?”

Ahab momentarily kept his suspicions to himself, unable to hide the bitterness in his voice before practically chugging the last of his tea. Apparently Big Boss was too mentally fatigued to find the action amusing.

“I suppose Ocelot and Kaz ‘getting acquainted’ during our coma’s of no consequence, then?”

“Good for them. They work well together.” A cold roll of his eye, indifference won out over obliviousness—rather, pretending to play dumb, in John’s case. Shared memories were a source of stress: John would rather _not_ overthink Adam’s obviously deep feelings.

Sighing deeply, Venom ensured their knees bumped underneath the cafe table, saucers and cups lightly clanking in response. Physical contact towards Ishmael would certainly get the point across, Ahab hoped.

“You can admit it to me, you know.” At the very least, Venom hoped the courtesy of ensuring their voices stayed low, keeping their discussion as private as could be in polite company, _meant something_ to Big Boss. This was the man he gladly sacrificed his very life for, day in and out.

“That coma didn’t exactly leave you unscathed, did it?” For emphasis, Venom pointed to his own forehead, minding the shrapnel.

Eye lowered, Snake sniffled while biting his thumbnail. Utter disinterest was written across his wrinkled, graying, features. “I don’t recall saying that’s a concern of yours, _soldier_.”

Ahab let out an audible huff. Bad topic, then.

It was painfully obvious, the former ‘best’ medic of MSF knew, that Big Boss would simply never see him in the same light he once saw Kazuhira, or allegedly still viewed Ocelot. A true comrade encountered in the South American ‘70’s, or an old confidant dating back to 1964.

Wasn’t Venom Snake a trusted soldier, too? Even more so than Ocelot or Miller, due to this unintentional body double situation they were mixed up in, thanks to Major Zero?

It still stung.

Leaning across the small coffee table, in a hushed voice Venom offered, “We have a couple of you-know-what in development. For defensive purposes.”

A simple nod. Their eyes, a reflection of each other, met with calm. Inhaling Naked Snake’s current scent of roasted coffee and cigar smoke…had the warlord turned ever so slightly, their lips would’ve met.

…Why would such a bizarre thought—while in public—surface to Venom’s mind, he didn’t understand. Certainly everyone in Militaires Sans Frontières thought of Naked Snake as charismatic— _some_ of the men would dare whisper “handsome”—but Ahab’s private medical knowledge of Big Boss’s relationship with the subcommander stayed just that. The good doctor ruefully wondered how many months (…years?) of not-so-subtle flirting it took for Miller to finally ‘win over’ Big Boss. Certainly their sauna brawl back in ‘74 was the turning point.

Ishmael sipped loudly from the coffee at his lips, lightly returning the cup to the saucer before fishing for several large bills from his wallet to cover the cost. Ahab was curious why the other man paid such a large amount; perhaps he was simply in a generous mood.

Feeling awkward to just stand there, Venom reached into his own pocket to search for some money before warmth lightly clamped around his flesh wrist. Avoiding the unnecessary glances towards his prosthetic during this ‘coffee date’ had been moderately successful.

“ _Relax_ , Ahab. I covered it already.”

Venom figured something like this would happen, as Big Boss continued while pulling his hand away from V’s.

“Ready to go? How are things otherwise?”

It was as if nothing bad happened earlier. Ishmael certainly got over things quickly—when he could afford to.

The smile tugging across Venom Snake’s lips broke free, a jolt of warm happiness spreading throughout his chest. “They’re well, overall. Figuring out a schedule to move forward and _ahem_ talking to your boys soon would be great.”

Both standing, Big Boss smiled lightly in turn, nodding his head towards the right. “I reserved a room for us in the hotel one street over, if you’re still up for talking.”

If Venom still had a drink to finish, he would’ve gulped it down entirely too fast. Certainly, speaking face-to-face was different than their radio calls or cassette tapes, yet…Why feel so nervous around the man who knew him better than Venom Snake knew himself?

Offering a friendly pat on Venom Snake’s back, Big Boss lead the way with his usual bout of confidence.

* * *

They made themselves comfortable atop their two beds in the modest hotel room. Big Boss was pulling off his boots while Venom stared at the hat sitting on his lap. His shrapnel was beginning to ache in a strange way; some much-needed relief was most welcome.

Venom enjoyed the different scenery and people-watching in their short walk, and held his breath once the other Snake calmly observed: “Nice view, huh?”

The slightly obscured view due to a large glass door leading towards their balcony certainly was. Glittering city lights and faint honking horns, against the backdrop of twilight, with that distantly hazy ocean…Although, perhaps Ahab was quite sick of one of those things.

Big Boss’s leather jacket was draped over a chair with his boots kicked off while he stared at the ceiling. Despite his apparent relaxation and current meditative state, John was always on alert to snap the neck of an intruder at a moment’s notice—had the situation called for it.

Ishmael _could_ appreciate the finer things, although he wasn’t one to live in luxury as Zero had preferred. His joint office-bedrooms (shared with Kaz during MSF days) were always humble, from Ahab’s recollections.

“Yeah. I’ve always liked the ocean.” Venom’s own jacket was carefully hung against the spare chair before he stepped onto the balcony, still smiling softly. After all, MSF had been his home during its unnamed beginnings, since before Kazuhira joined them.

From up here, he could enjoy the view and fresh air—without having to worry about curious eyes constantly on him.

John’s arms loosely dangled off the railing as their elbows bumped. Both were gradually getting up there in years, although the fifty-four year old was in no hurry to smoke any cigars just yet.

A deep inhale. That fresh air, a faint whiff of nearby ocean breeze, was nice. Pleasant.

Big Boss’s voice grew oddly gentle—Venom recalled overhearing supposed private moments between Kazuhira and Snake, when MSF’s commander would speak to Miller with occasional tenderness.

“How are you feeling?” His calloused thumb ever so slowly massaged the tip of the shrapnel, Venom winced slightly from his Boss’s touch. “You ever get any bad headaches from this thing?”

Hell, Venom once used similar gentle tones and touches around Kaz himself…He still wondered, just how long _had_ Kaz known the truth? Not that it mattered, anymore. The person who unknowingly captured Venom’s heart was, at best, missing—never to return—and at worst, long dead.

The Diamond Dogs commander would put up a brave front, refusing to let his emotions get the better of him in front of Big Boss…Despite who he longed to tightly embrace during those rainy, otherwise gloomy, days on Mother Base.

“Hmm.” It was too kind of Big Boss to inquire about the forehead shrapnel. “Headaches now and then, but nothing I can’t handle. I do joke about this being a ‘devil’s horn’, but that only adds to the Big Boss image.”

He wouldn’t bother explaining those past—but never forgotten—hallucinations of Paz. For her memory, for Quiet’s, and for that brave woman who believed in eternal loyalty to the end…The former medic turned commanding officer would continue in his fight for a better tomorrow.

Venom Snake allowed himself a brief moment of laughter before continuing. “I carry it with pride.” He inched ever-so-slightly closer to his (mostly) physically un-scarred reflection, his own thumb resting atop Snake’s.

“This helps remind me who I need to be.”

Big Boss offered a genuine smile, unflinching at Venom’s physical contact. “What are your plans for Outer Heaven?”

Ah. So _that_ was what Big Boss meant in his earlier talks of relocation. Working from the shadows as Big Boss took all the credit for their _mutual_ accomplishments…Yet somehow, it didn’t sting as much as he thought it would. V was never one for the spotlight, after all.

V nodded in understanding before both sets of eyes fell to the city below. Perhaps later, once they’d rest, their blind eyes—one due to muzzle flash, one due to a fateful chopper crash—would be visible, a private secret towards one another.

“I understand transferring will take time, but we should keep the Seychelles base as a distraction.”

“A wise decision.” The Boss’s voice lowered. “I’ll be returning to the United States. The Patriots won’t have any qualms welcoming a war hero and the commanding officer of FOXHOUND back home.”

Shrewd on Big Boss’s part, Venom internally agreed. Rumors of nuclear possession during MSF’s later days were just that.

“That being the case, Boss, I'll be happy to approve our merger soon. South Africa is beautiful countryside.”

“You have no qualms about child soldiers, I take it?” Boss’s voice was grim.

Memories of Eli and his boys formed in the Diamond Dogs commander’s mind. And Kazuhira’s personal objections. Distant memories of Chico’s smiling face.

“…None whatsoever.”

“It's necessary to ensure our survival that we change however the times demand it. I know you understand that better than anyone.”

“…Yes, Boss.”

The man in question snorted. “Spare me the robotic responses. Maybe this thing is jammed too far in there?”

Ahab had momentarily forgotten that Ishmael’s thumb and finger still gingerly held his shrapnel, offering almost sensual strokes.

The older of the pair gulped with a flushed face, that warmth radiating from Big Boss’s calloused fingertips running down those jagged black fragments did _something_ to V’s insides.

Spots before his suddenly fuzzy vision, fading colors that gave way to darkness at the corner of both eyes, was a small price to pay due to a moan escaping his lips…

“Hey!”

He couldn't help but cast a dirty look at Ishmael’s interruption, who snorted again.

“You blacking out on me, Ahab?”

The former medic grit his teeth, attempting to steady his racing heart through slow breathes—despite embarrassment over whatever the hell just transpired between them.

“I'm fine.”

The musky scent from a cigar finally filled the air. Venom would have to resist the temptation despite past phantom cigars being yet another aspect of his ‘programming’. A gentle reprimand towards Big Boss about the dangers of smoking entered the forefront of his mind, yet… He’d let it go. Knowledge of his true self, buried under the surface yet never forgotten, was more than enough for now.

He yearned for Big Boss's touch once more, that strong figure leaning against the balcony railing simply exhaled more smoke, profile nearly obscured.

“Something wrong?” Big Boss’s lone gaze was strong, steady, even with the sun sinking behind him.

“Nothing.” Another—honest—smile from Ahab. “Ocelot will continue assisting us however he pleases”, hopefully he wasn’t presumptuous in using plural for both Bosses, “but what  _should_ we do about Kaz?”

At length, Snake let out a deep sigh. He was avoiding eye contact, staring at a building in the distance while smoke escaped his lips. “Kaz…has to do what’s right for him. Whether or not he’s tired of everything that involves Cipher including us, that’s his prerogative. Nothing I’d say would reach him. Let’s both just leave him alone.”

 _And if he returns to you, once you join FOXHOUND?_ Was the rush of slight jealousy bubbling to the surface, thoughts that Venom kept buried within, due to his externally calm demeanor.

“Whatever Kaz chooses to do, I’ll accept it.” Venom wisely kept silent on matters of the blonde’s attention occasionally wavering elsewhere—towards Ocelot—in moments of Diamond Dogs at their downtime. Perhaps occasional interest in Ocelot was Kaz’s way of snubbing Venom, perhaps Venom’s fatigued mind was reading _far_ too much into a simple situation. Either way…

Kazuhira’s mixed emotions, including a dulled desire for revenge towards Big Boss was painfully obvious…Despite that polite, professional, distance the XO kept between himself and Venom in recent years. Big Boss was honestly right. If a physical parting of ways between Ahab himself and Kaz included an emotional parting of ways between those former MSF partners…There was nothing that could be done, nothing that could be said.

Life would continue however it would. Duty with unwavering loyalty was simply the task thrust upon him. As heartbreaking and uplifting as it could be, Venom would continue to fulfill it.

Big Boss’s relaxed smoke break continued uninterrupted, offering a smile of reassurance to his friend. Life _would_ continue, however it would.

Ambient street sounds and twinkling stars against inky blackness were their nighttime companions as peaceful silence fell between both soldiers.

* * *

“Do you miss him?”

Big Boss looked up from his Japanese-style curry rice while reclining against one of the beds. His plate of room service ordered food with an international flair was precariously balanced against a knee. Snake didn’t reply at first, while his mirror image on the spare bed began to sensibly chew after the honest inquiry.

“…I do. But.” Snake’s eye shut, the graying man lost in thought, personal memories that Venom painfully knew all too well. Oddly, a chuckle escaped the Boss’s lips. “Hell, if Kaz were here, he’d just bitch about them cooking it wrong. It’s missing the potatoes.”

An abrupt clearing of his throat, he continued: “I miss him, terribly. Our time together at MSF was some of the happiest moments I can recall. Of course there was EVA’s companionship, before everything went to hell with Zero’s group. But…just between us, I felt happiest with…”

Jack swallowed, a new chuckle sounding weak, dying in his throat.

“Well, you know. This situation being what it is, walking my own path is a must.”

“…You’re not alone, Boss. Even if the whole world doesn’t understand—or refuses to—you have one person that always _does_.”

He wouldn’t think about the family—his parents—he intentionally cut ties with, after The Boss’s death. Nor would he recall EVA’s embraces while their Patriots organization gained power—wealth a laughable concern thanks to the Legacy. Rather than loneliness, hope was John’s comfort.

Something about that fire in Ahab’s lone eye as he maintained that steadfast eye contact brought an honest smile to Ishmael's lips.

A beat.

“Come here.”

His expression shifting to curiosity, Venom obediently sat on the side of Big Boss’s bed, their half-finished plates of dinner now resting atop the dresser. Certainly Snake would be eager for seconds (maybe even thirds) soon. Yet V didn’t even startle at the warmth enveloping his midsection, Big Boss’s sudden embrace tightening.

Sighing into the unexpected hug full of gratitude, Venom placed all of his trust into his idol and friend. Expressing without words as his butterfly had once yearned for, Venom craned his neck just so, his lips brushing against Big Boss’s beard before their lips ever so slowly locked.

A moment of hesitation—perhaps discomfort, considering their…abnormal situation, Ahab assumed—and Big Boss slowly began kissing back. Unsurprisingly, Big Boss took the lead, his tongue rather appropriately snaking its way into a greedily accepting Ahab’s mouth. Exploring as their arms wrapped around one another, their position shifted so Snake ended up in his former medic’s lap.

Eventually coming up for air with closed eyes, Ahab’s head lightly bumped against his superior officer. He’d temporarily ignore the vague pangs of a nervous stomach, that perhaps he made a grave mistake that would result in being CQCed against the expensive-looking wool carpet.

Despite the superficial physical similarities, their souls _were_ different. V wondered, why didn’t he realize sooner that he was charmed under that same spell everyone else was, once they encountered Big Boss?

“The night of the crash…We _all_ changed, dying alongside MSF. I’ll always care deeply for Kaz. He was my best friend. That’s why I’m…” A knot formed in his throat, and all Venom could do was swallow, thickly. “Sorry.”

Snake’s calloused fingers found their way into Ahab’s hair, lightly ruffling it into a mess. He could’ve sworn Ahab grumbled—mildly—in response. Snake seemed pleased by the reaction, pulling his former doctor in for a nearly suffocating bear-hug.“It’s alright.”

Despite initial hesitations, something about listening to Big Boss’s reassurance—and his strong heartbeat—soothed his own. Venom finally offered those words buried within.

“I understand your reasons for leaving everyone behind, Boss. But…don’t leave me just yet.”

He was merely a shadow. And what could a shadow be without the man itself?

Snake’s rough thumb lightly caressed Venom’s cheek, inhaling slowly. V’s horn gently brushed against his hair. No words came to mind. What could he do or say to reassure his older—probably better, in truth—half? He _knew_ that Ahab never wanted to be a burden, after all.

Ahab’s lips met Ishmael's again, tasting hints of the long extinguished cigar on his tongue. Despite initial reservations, Snake returned the kiss, practically melting into Venom’s hug.

* * *

“I remember one evening, after a long day of being on-call at MSF. I was getting a decent night’s sleep when Kaz stumbled into my room. I was surprised that he visited me, but he was drunk, so I wasn’t surprised anymore.”

Venom chuckled.

Perhaps they wouldn’t meet again under such relaxed circumstances. In their line of work, after all, there was no guarantee. Covers overturned and wearing only their boxers, the pair remained locked in an embrace. The coolness of the sheets and overhead fan blowing brought a sense of ease to an otherwise muggy evening in their dark hotel room.

“Kaz…He said he was mad at you—as usual. You just returned from a two-day mission, and refused to talk about what was going on inside your head. But…I understand you now.”

V’s gaze fell to his unattached red prosthetic, resting atop an end table, shining from the window’s city lights. Both sets of eye-patches lay next to his arm. It felt strange not wearing either in ‘public’, but it wasn’t an uncomfortable feeling. Still wearing his ponytail, Venom felt secure in the knowledge  _her_ bandana was safely locked away in his quarters at Diamond Dogs. He understood Big Boss’s mixed feelings, respectfully choosing to stay silent.

Somehow, the strangest part of this evening’s encounter was their now-cold dinner on the nearby dresser, all but forgotten. John simply _loved_ to eat, after all, whether it was whatever he could find in the jungles that wouldn’t make him sick (‘Medic’ prescribing Big Boss medicine still happened on occasion), or a more…traditional…meal like tonight.

Big Boss blinked. He would’ve completely forgotten about such a small fight, had Ahab not otherwise mentioned it. Certainly his irritations and technical PTSD over _her_ was a matter he attempted sweeping under the rug. But there were those nights it would engulf his very soul—waking up screaming and startling Kazuhira in their bedroom—or occasional moodiness around the new recruits, in little mood for his usual small talk about UMAs or favorite bugs.

Memories flooded back, his attempt at making it up to Kaz: Taking a personal day off that following morning, shooing Amanda and Cécile out of the kitchen to make a sub par curry-rice. Kaz just laughed at the complete mess when he wound up in the Mess Hall for lunch, but gladly ate with Snake. All was forgiven.

“I should get back to Mother Base, if you want to be alone with your thoughts. Or I can listen. It’s your call.”

“No. I’d love for you to stay.” Ishmael shook his head while rubbing his blind eye with a fist. His free hand found its way to Ahab’s arm stump, offering a tender massage, fingers like magic against rough patches of skin. Venom leaned into the touch with a sigh. Care like this, proper down time after accumulating weeks on the battlefield, had been a sore avoidance.

“I didn’t leave out of choice, you know. Ocelot’s and EVA’s insistence. Do you really think either of them would _want_ me to stick around with so many organizations hot on my ass?”

V could only smile despite his Boss’s serious tone. “Ocelot and EVA…they’re different. They work for  _your_ dream, but Kaz? He worked for the dream you _both_ shared.”

“Pity that dream ended due to circumstances and time.” It was a mumbled thought, one that Ahab had the luxury of hearing thanks to resting in the other man’s arms.

“Tell me, Ahab. What do you remember about the hospital back at Cyprus?” His serious eyes held an understandable, unspoken, sadness to them. All that carnage—be it MSF’s downfall or the Cyprus massacre—that he had no means of preventing. And his hesitation in Zero’s phantom idea from the very start.

Still. He just wanted to see the Medic’s face again. Reaching out for the unconscious Ahab in their toppled ambulance, his rough fingers barely brushed that man’s cheek before Ocelot had pulled Big Boss away to safety…

“Besides blurry memories and faded colors? That I’m alive thanks to a certain mystery man and Ocelot.”

V’s words resulted in a mutual chuckle, a much-needed breaking of personal tensions.

Sleep would certainly claim them soon, Venom was well-aware of his own heavy eyelids. A full night’s rest with a dear friend by his side…There were worse ways to spend the evening.

Planting a tender kiss against V’s shrapnel, Snake forced a smirk. “What do you think that mystery man would say to you today?” It was oddly refreshing; slowly opening up to somebody who _wasn’t_ EVA, or Kaz—or his most trusted, Adam.

“That man…I don’t even know if he was real.”

The words died as they left Venom’s lips. Speaking ill of hallucinations simply didn’t feel right due to hazy memories of Paz’s happy hums at the Medical Platform.

Half-grinning now, Big Boss’s hand found its way to the nape of Venom’s neck. He made a mental note to contact Ocelot tomorrow morning. To ensure that Adam was being good to Kaz—and not just through their apparent sex life. (Truthfully, deciding who ‘won’ the title of best friend between Adam versus Kaz always _had_ been a difficult choice for John…)

“He was real, Ahab. And he’s so incredibly proud of you.”

Blush fully reaching his face, Venom couldn’t find the words, despite an honest attempt.

“Why go that far for me, Boss? Zero ‘created’ me to protect _you_ , so why…”

Words weren’t needed. Ishmael rewarded Ahab’s genuine devotion with a deep, lingering, kiss. This was good. They were one soul, and Ahab was all that Ishmael needed. Right now, he wanted nothing more than for _his_ Ahab to writhe and moan underneath him.

It was indescribable emotional intimacy: love coupled with admiration, adoration. Parting his lips involuntarily as their kisses feverishly deepened, Venom Snake couldn’t help but crave more.

**Author's Note:**

> Feel free to join the fun! 
> 
> Twitter: @BBVDay


End file.
